Chapter Text
Hinata
Another wobbly step nearly sent the red head crashing onto the sidewalk. Instead, he caught himself on the wall; his shoulder colliding with the rough edges of the bricks. A soft whimper slipped from his bloodied lips as pain shot down his body, and finally, his legs gave out. He slid down the brick, ignoring the scratches as it tore as his already worn sweatshirt, and collapsed into a puddle of half melted snow, his backpack now at his side. The cold jolted his senses just slightly, just enough to clear his drowsy head for a moment.
It was cold. The winter chill bit his cheeks and leaving them red and dry. Snow drifted artfully around him, clouding his view with white. Looking around, the streets were somewhat crowded. Yet all anyone offered him was a glance or two. The buildings ahead were tall, and he recognized one.
So that’s how far I walked…
He felt a smile creep along his lips. He had gotten far enough away that it would take Terushima a few hours to find him once he was home from work. He had gained a decent head start. Now if only his head would stop pounding.
He took out his phone, the screen shattered and barely working after being thrown across the apartment. Terushima had a strong arm and good aim. Making sure to hit the hard kitchen tile and do as much damage as possible. The battery was low too; the red line mocking as it ticked down minute by minute.
Who could he call? Who would actually pick up? Kenma? No. They had lost contact over a year ago, just after Terushima came into his life. And he was probably too busy to drive out to get him. His mother and little sister were out of the question. They shouldn’t see him now, not like this. Not with evidence of the years of abuse he had suffered still littering his small body. Everyone else was gone from his life. Cut out by Terushima’s scheming or they had simply drifted apart after high school.
His vision began to blur again, eyes unfocusing even as he squinted at the screen.
“Hey, are you alright?” A gentle voice broke through the fog and Hinata followed it to a young man with striking silver hair. He was wrapped in a large, puffy winter coat, a purple knit hat and a matching mask placed over his mouth and nose.
Hinata nodded, but the movement felt sluggish. Almost as if he was stuck in water. “Yeah…” His voice was strained and rough, throat raw from the screams silenced only by hands around his neck.
“Are you sure?” The man clearly wasn’t stupid enough to fall for Hinata’s lie. But he was sure that the man was only asking to be polite, that he would leave once he got another answer.
“Yeah…”
To his surprise, the man crouched beside him and pulled the mask down, letting it rest below his chin. And it’s then that Hinata could really take in the man’s looks. He was taller, but not by much. The silver hair was so light with a tint of blonde undertones, and Hinata honestly couldn’t tell if it was natural or not. His eyes were hazel and sparkling even then in the dim street lights; and beneath one was a small delicate beauty mark.
He’s pretty.
“Why don’t I just bring him home instead? I bet he’s a better fuck than you. Ungrateful bitch.”
Terushima’s voice echoed in his mind and Hinata could feel his body beginning to crumble. His hand shook and he shoved his fist into the pocket of his sweatshirt. It offered little warmth and no comfort.
“Hey—”
“Sugawara, what is going on?” A new voice cut through the white noise. It was deep, and the sound of it made Hinata flinch.
“Toshi, I think he needs help.” The silver haired man’s voice was slightly panicked. “We can’t just leave him here. Give me a hand.”
There was a slight rustling and Hinata could see that the taller man had pulled out his phone. The screen lit up his face. “I will call the police. They can handle it—”
“He’s bleeding, Toshi!” The first one — Sugawara, he thought, snapped. “He needs a hospital! We have a car! We’re taking him!”
The other man sighed heavily, “Sugawara —”
“Just call the driver! And tell Daichi to meet us at the hospital!”
Then, Hinata felt a hand on his arm. He jerked back involuntarily, and instantly regretted it. The movement had only served to remind him of the injuries the two men couldn’t see. The deep purple bruises on his rib cage. The finger prints on his thighs, hips and neck. The marks on his wrists where the rope had been pulled too tight.
“Hey, hey,” the man called softly; his hand no longer touching Hinata, but hanging limp in the air between them. “We’re not going to hurt you. We just want to get you some help. Take you somewhere warm. It’s going to keep snowing and you’ll freeze if you stay out here.”
Hinata tried to laugh, but the sound was more of a harsh breath than anything. “…would that be so bad…?”
The stranger’s face twisted and blurred into what he imagined to be horror. This is not a joking matter. The voice in his head was unrecognizable, but it was right.
He blinked, but the world remained blurry and began to blacken around the edges. The last thing he saw was the silver haired man’s friend reaching to pick him up and a very expensive looking car coming down the street toward them.
Ushijima
The driver knew better than to ask too many questions, and Ushijima knew better than to try and change Sugawara’s mind once it was set.
Ushijima approached the car, cradling the battered young man — he weighed barely anything and his body was cold to the touch. The signs of abuse were obvious from the blood and bruising on his face. He had seen it before, but not of this nature. And for a moment he wondered if those bruises went further beneath his clothes.
The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
Sugawara went first, sliding in and reaching to help guide the boy into the car. The last thing he needed was another injury because of their carelessness.
Ushijima laid the red head across Sugawara’s lap before sliding into the cab beside them, resting the young man's legs on his own. And it took only a millisecond before Sugawara was cradling the boy to his chest.
“Toshi,” Sugawara whispered softly, as if the sound of his voice might wake the stranger. “H-his pants.” Heartache laced his words and Ushijima knew before looking at him that there would be tears in his eyes.
“I know.” Was all he said, his eyes returning to the blood stains along the boy’s inner thighs. It was becoming increasingly obvious what had happened; and the thought of it turned Ushijima’s stomach.
Sugawara sniffled beside him, but quickly wiped at his eyes before more tears could escape. He carded his fingers through the boy’s hair, and Ushijima could see a few more bruises hidden beneath it.
“We’re all set. Take us to the nearest hospital.” Ushijima instructed, knowing all too well that Sugawara was too focused on the boy. He made a call to Daichi, making sure to let him know that it wasn’t his boyfriend who needed medical attention. Regardless of the reassurance, Daichi was insistent on meeting them at the hospital.
The ride was quick; the nearest hospital was luckily only a few blocks away. They arrived and Ushijima carried the boy inside, eagerly handing him over to the trained professionals as soon as the bed was available. The nurse took their information and promised to update them as soon as she could. And then they were gone; the doctors and nurses disappearing behind the swinging doors with the unconscious redhead.
The minute hand ticked passed the twelve. Another hour went by. It had been three total since they had last been updated. The boy — Hinata Shōyō, according to his ID — was in surgery to stop the internal bleeding around his spleen. The x-rays revealed three broken ribs and a fractured wrist. Along with countless contusions and deep bruises and an older break on his left arm that had healed decently well. The doctor had described the evidence of rape as delicately as she could.
The physical wounds would heal with time, but mentally they could never be sure.
“Babe, sit down.” Daichi called from one of the chairs. “Pacing won’t make the surgery go any faster.”
Ushijima looked up, watching as Sugawara continued pacing back and forth, seemingly ignoring his partner’s suggestion.
The room was empty aside from a young woman sitting off to the side, and she hadn’t bothered to look up. Surely too preoccupied with thoughts of her loved one in the middle of surgery.
“Koushi.” Daichi’s tone was stern, and Sugawara whipped his head around to face him.
“What?” He snapped. “I’m worried! I can’t just sit still, okay?!”
“Okay, okay,” Daichi stood up to meet him, “I know you’re worried. So am I.” He reached to take Sugawara’s hands and Sugawara let him. “The doctor said that they caught it in time, so he should be okay.” He squeezed his boyfriend’s hands and Sugawara let out a shaky breath.
“I know…” He nodded, “I just… how could someone do that to another person? Dai, he’s so small.” His voice became strained as his throat tightened and tears filled his eyes. “The doctor said that it looked like he had suffered from abuse for a while — years even! I-I don’t know how he survived it all. What would have happened if we hadn’t found him?” He looked toward his bodyguard, but the man avoided his gaze.
How could someone abuse another person like that? He still didn’t understand it though he had tried. Even though he, himself, had suffered something of the sort at the hands of a loved one. Satori had offered his own kind of advice more than once; some helpful, some not. But it still made no sense to him.
“Hey, hey.”
Ushijima watched as Daichi’s hands lifted to his boyfriend’s shoulders, squeezing tenderly — that, that was how a relationship was supposed to be. Loving and supportive. No ultimatums or passive aggressive comments. No fists, no pain.
His fingers curled into fists at his sides as a sudden wave of protectiveness crashed over him. He didn’t know Hinata, they weren’t friends, they weren’t close — but something stirred inside him, pushing him to protect the kid.
“It doesn’t matter now.” Daichi continued softly, “You did find him and he’s safe. He’s going to be okay.”
That time, Ushijima met the man’s stare and nodded. Hinata was safe, and he would remain that way. Ushijima would make sure of it.